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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26184490">Sebastian has a breakdown</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakurachan811/pseuds/sakurachan811'>sakurachan811</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Metal Family (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Depression, Mental Breakdown, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Starvation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:27:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,685</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26184490</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakurachan811/pseuds/sakurachan811</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After he first moves in with Ches there is an adjustment period.<br/>(His father threw him away, his father threw him away, his father-)</p><p>Glam does not remember said party. But Glam has heard stories. (Also he knows how it felt to be Sebastian Shvagenbagen at the time, and it wasn’t good.) But Ches knows</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sebastian has a breakdown</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After he first moves in with Ches there is an adjustment period.<br/>
(His father threw him away, his father threw him away, his father-)</p><p>He's not ok, at first Ches just let him sleep. Occasionally poking at him to check if he was still alive. The first weeks living with Ches are a haze of self hate and guilt, monotonously dull days spent ensconced in their (Ches')<br/>
room. Lying in bed. he stops crying after a while, because it’s exhausting and dehydrating, but he also stops doing things like eating. And showering. Little things like that.<br/>
But by the fourth week Chesnok had had enough.</p><p>At some point the Ches opens the door, calls his name, comes in when Glam doesn’t bother to respond from where he’s curled under the covers. “Oh, thank fuck.” He says when Glam stirs enough to crack an eye open and stare at him around the mound of his pillow. “I was afraid—” he cuts hinself off suddenly and looks down at his feet as though ashamed.</p><p>“What?” Glam growls. “Afraid I’d finally slit my wrists?” He rolls over. “Sorry to disappoint.”<br/>
“I’m not disappointed,” He volleys back at him,<br/>
Glam curls tighter into his cozy mound (nest?) of blankets. "I’m okay. Just damn perfect.” He throws the blanket over his head to signal exactly how done he is with this pointless conversation, immediately nearly smothering in the warm, stale, sweat-scented air. He hears feet shuffling a little on the carpet.
Glam waits for him to leave, but after an long silence he continues, “It’s just… it's dinnertime."<br/>
"God damn it all." he snarls out.</p><p>"I'm going to go clean up."<br/>
He sits up, wraps a blanket around his shoulders like a cape and pushes his greasy, uncombed hair pushed behind his ears, as he purposefully avoids the question.“No, c’mon.” Ches pushes. “You can’t live on nothing. What gives?”<br/>
He stares down at dragging blanket and cold bare feet with toenails that he needs to trim, and he suppresses a fresh wave of exclusion and loss. This is not where he’s supposed to be. And whose fault is that exactly?<br/>
Ches watches him go with his brow creased in concern. Glam does shower, twice, and brush his teeth, comb his hair, clip his claws. Even shave, he changes into fresh(er) clothes given him by Ches.</p><p>When he exits feeling slightly less like a failure, he finds a bag of chips waiting for him. He really isn't hungry, just cold and tired. He crashes back in to bed.

</p><p>If he won't eat chips and he wont eat dinner, he has to eat this, even if he has to cram it down his throat.<br/>
Ches waits until he’s pretty sure that Glam’s asleep before sneaking into his room and edging the door shut behind him. Glam stirs when the bedside lamp is clicked on and Ches waits until he groggily rolls over to face him and holds a hand up to shade his eyes as he forces them open. His pupils were the barest slits of black on dark icy blue<br/>
“What the hell, Ches? He rasps.</p><p>“Here.” he presents it with a magician’s flourish. “Ta-fucking-da. For you.”<br/>
“Oh,” Glam says, sitting up. “Uh…”<br/>
He's opening it and pressing it into Glam’s loose hand, curling his fingers around it before he could argue.<br/>
“I… already brushed my teeth.”<br/>
“And you can brush them again. You’re eating that.” He says. “Mmm. Yum.”<br/>
“But—” <br/>
“Fuck you. You. Are. Eating. That.” He growls in frustration, flashing his teeth for good measure.

</p><p>Glam gapes incredulously some more before hesitantly brings it to his mouth, and stalls for a second before actually putting it in and chewing. When he does, his eyes slide shut.</p><p>He pauses “Thank you.”</p><p>Even with Ches' desprate plan of tossing food at him or begging, pleading and outright demanding until he caves and eats just to make him stop. He still eats less than he should, Chesnok says that it's killing him to watch him do this to himself. </p><p>Most nights Glam lays in his bed at night and falls asleep to the sound of his growling stomach. His flesh is burning away to reveal his angry, jagged bones. They look like they're weapons of war. He's destroying what would hold him down, cutting away the excess. Light is beginning to emerge in all these new places now, It streams dips into the deep hollows of his collarbones. His hipbones thrust forward, his cheekbones are starting to sharpen. His spine – like a chain, like gnashing teeth. His bones, will protect him like armor so that there will be nothing to fear anymore.</p><p>At night he wakes up covered in cold sweat, the last vestiges of a nightmare loosening their grip from his mind. His nails scrabble at his wrist, it hurts so much but the pain is familiar, grounding almost. (Someone save him. Someone needs to save him right now)</p><p>There is snow falling outside, the bar is rather dim, Glam doesn't mind, personally. he's had a headache all day and the sun hurt his eyes when they were walking over. But Ches was happy, so happy that he was leaving the bedroom and going to practice, and sort of eating. He is not interested in the celebration or the food or any part of it at all. Noise makes his (now frequent) headaches worse and he doesn't want to socialize. He wants to stay in his(?) room and be left alone. Winter has come now, and when it's cold like this, forget about all that goes into celebrating.</p><p>So he sits at the bar, Sebastian stares into his drink, blinking heavily, he drinks and drinks and stews in his thoughts. The more he drinks the harder it gets to keep his head in the right time, he drifts for a bit. God he's so tired.<br/>
His head pounds and pounds, and his wrist, his wrist, he scratches and scratches.<br/>
"Glam, there you are- what the fuck are you doing? Stop!"<br/>
“No.” he whispers desperately, “Don’t touch me!” He sounds so scared, he smells scared.

</p><p>“Glam, please calm down.” he pleads. He shows his neck, 'i'm only trying to help' “Please, just tell me what’s wr—”<br/>
He’s not just drunk. Something is wrong, really wrong. Chesnok drags him away from the bar and to a less public area.

He doesn't know who he's talking to anymore.
He doesn't know what's happening anymore.

</p><p>He groans from the floor, hunched, holding himself. Glam uncurls, his voice grows in volume with each word until he’s shouting. Despite the rage in his eyes, Glam begins to cry. </p><p>"DO YOU SEE ME? DO YOU!? NOBODY FUCKING SEES ME!! Nobody ever fucking sees me-” Back down to broken sobbing.</p><p>“He told me,” he spits, approaching, pointing an accusatory finger. “He told me you don’t care. That nobody in this goddamn world cares. Don’t fucking pretend that you’ve ever given a shit about what that asshole has done to me!"</p><p>Who, his father?</p><p>“Glam, please what are you talking ab—”<br/>
He leans forward, traps him, His tears hit his face as he looks up. An angry fist bangs against the wall and he whimpers. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Stop playing stupid. You’re always-” Bang. “fucking-” Bang. “Doing that!”<br/>
He’s delusional. Completely out of his mind, there’s no way he can reason with him.<br/>
“Glam, stop!”<br/>
“Shut up!” Glam cries. “You’re so fake, everyone in this family is fake, you’re all liars, he told m—”<br/>
“What the fuck is going on?”</p><p>Their drummer stands in the doorway, jaw clenched, teeth grinding. Immediately, Glam turns around. He wipes his wet face with the back of his sleeve.</p><p>“Nothing.” He spits.“Just another day of nothing, just like every other fucking day here, right?”  Glam snarls. Tears pour down his face, Glams’s fists clench. Ken steps foreword-<br/>
“No.” he whispers desperately, “Don’t-”</p><p>“Paganini,” Barbie takes a step forward, he sobs.<br/>
When the drummer reaches out for him, they’re all forced back as Glam swipes at them with his claws. “Don’t touch me!” he shouts, lashes out, his bawling grows louder. Barbie’s eyes widen as he wrinkles his nose in… disgust? Horror? Ches can’t tell, but he definitely notices something is seriously wrong.</p><p>“I hate you so much! I hate this entire fucking family! You’re always- always siding with him, always going behind my back to get me in trouble, I hate it, I hate you, I… I—”</p><p>Family? What?</p><p>Glam cuts himself off, claps a hand to his mouth as his eyes go wide. Suddenly he doubles over, clutching his stomach as he spews past his fingers and onto the floor. His bandmates watch in stunned silence as he empties the contents of his stomach all over the floor, Splattering in three quick violent heaves. Glam pants afterwards, holds himself up with trembling arms.<br/>
“Oh…”</p><p>Oh Glam, buddy.</p><p>Glam looks empty, physically, emotionally. Chez reaches out, smooths across his shoulders, takes him by the arm and hauls him up. “Come on, let's get you out of here.”</p><p>He leads him out through the back exit, takes him to get fresh air. His feet stumble, stutter on the ground. Ches tries to keep him upright. Then he stops walking altogether.<br/>
“Glam? Come on, what…” trails off as he begins to hear the hissing. It’s surreal to look down and watch the growing stain on his pants, blooming, spreading fast down one leg. Glam sways, leans on him as he voids his bladder. </p><p>“Oh… oh-” he doesn’t know what to do, just holds him upright until he finishes.<br/>
He hears muffled bickering coming from inside the bar. Shortly after, Barbie stomps out onto the porch, arms crossed, watching them both. Before he can even react, a light weight pushes against him. Chesnok catches Glam just as he falls unconscious, </p><p>Together they bring him to where they practice and lower him to the couch as gently as possible. he lays him down on his side and brushes the hair off his sweaty forehead. </p><p>While he sleeps it off, they plan.</p>
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